


Maybe

by RogueLioness



Series: A Whole New World Outtakes [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueLioness/pseuds/RogueLioness
Summary: In Crestwood, Samarra is faced with a man she knows well, but she has to hide it from him.
Series: A Whole New World Outtakes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862224
Kudos: 5





	Maybe

It was disconcerting how well she could read the emotions on his face. It shouldn’t have been so easy, she thought. After all, she’d only just met him a few days ago - he was a just a little better than a stranger to her.

And yet. And yet.

There was a secret thrill that she knew what he felt, that the microemotions flittering across his face were laid bare before her. That he couldn’t hide himself from her. There was a power in that, a power in knowing that she could know his truest feelings, but now was not the time to think about that. The last of the Theirins was conflicted, she could see, and judging by the way he sat, shoulders hunched over the fire as he kept guard, his thoughts were weighing him down.

That was something she could empathize with.

She moved deliberately, letting the twigs snap under her feet to alert him. He looked up, his brows unknitting, face smoothing out into a pleasant smile. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, shooting him a quick grin. He shook his head, and she took a seat next to him - close, but not as close as she wanted.

Still, she could smell him from where she sat, could feel the warmth of his body, and that was enough.

_What a lie._

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked sympathetically. Lord knew they’d sliced their way through enough undead that day in a bid to defend Crestwood till the Inquisitor and her companions returned.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “i know it should be easier to kill the undead than the living, but… it gets to you, you know? I mean, they were people once…” she paused, then continued on to muse, “but are the undead truely undead? I mean, if spirits have taken over their bodies… technically spirits are alive, right?” she mumbled, almost to herself.

He chuckled, and that drew her attention. His laugh was rich and wholesome, just as he was. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he quipped. “Never was a fan of that philosophical stuff.”

She blushed. “Oh, I was just being stupid,” she waved her hand dismissively.

“Somehow, I very much doubt that you’re stupid,” he replied earnestly.

“I’m glad one of us thinks so,” she laughed.

They sat in companionable silence, watching the flames dance over ash-covered logs. 

“The Wardens on your mind?” she asked quietly.

He hesitated for a moment as though debating his answer. “Yes,” he said at last. “I’ve always been proud to be a Grey Warden. They gave my life a meaning, gave me a purpose. To know that Clarel would resort to using blood magic…” he sighed sadly. 

“I thought the Wardens were in favor of ‘any means necessary’ to defeat the darkspawn?”

His gaze was shrewd and piercing, searching for how much she knew, but she merely folded her hands in her lap and looked back at him impassively.

“That is true.” he said, apparently having decided she wasn’t a threat. “Still, blood magic is forbidden for a reason. There was a warden I met once-” he slammed his mouth shut.

_I know about Avernus,_ she wanted to tell him, but kept it to herself. “There’s still a chance to save them,” she offered instead.

“I hope so,” was his grim reply.

They slipped into silence again, uncomfortable and tense this time, and she wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her head atop her knees as she stared into the darkness outside the village gates. There was a scout patrol due to return soon, she knew, and hoped that they were all unharmed…

“There’s something I can’t quite place about you.” The hesitantly spoken statement pushed her out of her thoughts.

“Oh? What would that be?”

“You seem… familiar. Very familiar. Are you sure we’ve never met?” he asked, and her breath hitched for an instant before she stopped breathing altogether.

“I’m sure,” she forced herself to sound calm and composed, though the blood roared in her ears and memories of James, muddled with scenes from Origins swirled through her mind, mocking her relentlessly. “Unless you’ve travelled to Rivain before?”

“No, I haven’t. Strange,” he muttered. “I could’ve sworn…” he trailed off. “Perhaps we met in another life,” he offered, the mischievous grin so much familiar her stomach churned with the sudden desire to fling herself at him and confess everything.

“Perhaps,” she answered, her voice sounding weak to her own ears. “And if that’s the case, perhaps we’ll meet again. And maybe next time it’ll be different.” She rose and walked away, unable to bear the cacophony of emotions that threatened to burst out of her chest, feeling his gaze on her back as she returned to her tent.

_Perhaps next time, you’ll stay with me._


End file.
